57: Chapter 57 Demon-Slaying Gathering

The mountain path was rugged, and the horse's hooves trod on the gravel, making a faint, rustling sound.

A jujube-red horse carried a person, walking down the mountain leisurely.

The person on the horse was a woman in a dark red martial arts attire, with several wine gourds hanging from her waist, swaying with the horse's steps and clinking loudly.

Her posture on the horse was a bit wrong.

It wasn't that she didn't know how to ride; she was just too drunk.

Her whole body slumped across the horse's back, one hand gripping the reins.

The other hand felt at her waist, took off a wine gourd, pulled out the stopper, and tilted her head back to take a gulp.

The liquor trickled down the corner of her mouth, but she didn't wipe it; it just hung there, glistening.

After finishing this gulp, she plugged the gourd's stopper back in and hung it on her waist.

Then she pulled a sheepskin scroll from her bosom and unfolded it to look.

A weasel was tattooed on the sheepskin scroll, golden, with vertical pupils, a long trailing tail, and an open mouth revealing a full set of sharp teeth.

It was tattooed very delicately, so that even the whiskers could be counted one by one.

The demon-slaying map of the Demon Slayer Association.

Her name was Pei Se, a peak Third-turn Martial Artist of the Demon Slayer Association, and this time she was ordered to come and slay demons.

Guanhai County.

According to the news, that weasel demon had come to Guanhai County.

She rolled up the sheepskin scroll, stuffed it back into her bosom, took off another wine gourd, took a gulp, and muttered vaguely.

"Guanhai County, I've never been here before. Where am I supposed to go to find that weasel?"

Pei Se muttered, her eyelids beginning to droop.

She forced them open wide, then closed them again.

When she opened them again, the sun had already slanted to the west.

She was stunned for a moment, straightened her body, and looked left and right.

The horse carried her along a dirt road, flanked by low earthen walls with withered grass growing on top.

Not far away, cooking smoke rose thinly and straightly, floating in the sunlight.

She lowered her head and glanced at the wine gourd in her hand; it was empty.

She pulled open the gourd stopper, turned it upside down, and tapped it against her mouth, not a single drop came out.

It was completely dry!

She swallowed her saliva, her throat itching.

Along this place, she had passed several villages, not a single one of which could provide her with wine.

However, she couldn't blame those villages either.

Brewing wine required grain. In this day and age, which village had surplus grain to brew wine?

She looked up at the village ahead emitting cooking smoke.

She swallowed her saliva, and her craving for alcohol began to act up.

Although she knew it was unlikely, she still patted the horse's neck, urging it to walk in that direction.

The horse's hooves trod on the dirt road at the village entrance, and a child playing with mud under the Old Locust Tree at the village entrance raised his head and glanced at her.

Then lowered his head and continued playing, not afraid of strangers at all.

Pei Se was stunned when she saw this.

Along the way she had traveled, children in the villages she passed would run away upon seeing a stranger.

Yet the children of this village were actually so bold.

She pulled the reins and dismounted.

The empty gourd at her waist swayed, hitting the saddle and making a hollow sound.

She stood at the village entrance, looking at the village.

Low eaves, scattered stone walls, wooden frames drying fishing nets, and bamboo plaques drying dried fish.

An old man was sitting at the base of a wall, basking in the sun and dozing off.

Along the way, it was the first time Pei Se had seen such a peaceful village; she led her horse and walked toward the village.

Inside the village, she touched the empty gourd at her waist, swallowed her saliva, and hesitated whether to find a villager to ask.

Just then, an old man drying fish saw Pei Se and spoke out.

"What are you here for?"

Pei Se hurriedly stepped forward, cupped her hands and said.

"Old sir, I am passing by your esteemed village and would like to beg for a sip of wine. I can pay for it."

After saying this, she felt it was absurd herself.

These days, which village has surplus grain to brew wine?

The old man glanced at her, then at the row of empty gourds at her waist, said nothing, and turned to walk into the courtyard.

Pei Se thought the old man couldn't be bothered with her and was just about to turn and walk away.

When she saw the old man carrying out a black pottery jar from inside, its mouth sealed with red cloth covered in a layer of dust.

He placed the jar in front of her and uncovered the red cloth.

Pei Se sniffed.

As a drunkard, she could tell with a single sniff that this was fine wine brewed from grain.

Pei Se's eyes lit up.

"This is..."

"Brewed at home."

The old man took out a funnel from the room, inserted it into her gourd, picked up the wine jar, and poured it in.

Amber liquor flowed down the funnel, filling one gourd, and then filling the second.

Pei Se stood there, watching the liquor bit by bit fill those empty gourds, her throat constantly moving.

Along the way she had traveled, passing seven or eight villages, not a single family had wine.

She couldn't help asking.

"Old sir, your village actually has wine?"

The old man filled the second gourd, plugged the stopper, tapped the funnel against the mouth of the jar, and without raising his head, said,

"Nowhere else has it, but our Qin Family Village does."

Pei Se took the gourd, pulled open the stopper, and took a big gulp.

The liquor rolled down her throat, mellow, lingering, with a sweet taste of grain.

She let out a long breath, feeling that all the fatigue of the journey had dissipated.

"Why? Why does only Qin Family Village have wine?"

The old man covered the jar back with the red cloth and tied it tightly with a rope.

While tying it, he said,

"Because our village has Lord Qinling."

Pei Se was stunned for a moment.

"Lord Qinling?"

"The deity our village worships."

The old man picked up the wine jar and walked into the house, talking as he walked.

"With Lord Qinling's blessing, boats can go out to sea, fish can fill the cabin, life can go on, and only then will there be surplus grain to brew wine."

His voice came out from the room.

"In other villages, boats are gone, people are gone, and they can't even get enough to eat. Where would they get grain to brew wine?"

Pei Se stood there, still gripping the wine gourd in her hand, holding the liquor in her mouth.

Gods?

What gods could there be in this world?

She had worked in the Demon Slayer Association for seven or eight years and had seen too many things pretending to be gods and ghosts.

There were wild foxes wearing human skin to trick people for incense, snake spirits hiding in temples to eat offerings, and weasels that had become spirits scaring people in their dreams.

She had never believed in these things.

But the wine in her hand was real, and the sweetness of the grain was real.

Pei Se couldn't directly refute the old man either.

After all, in her view, the old man was just a mortal, and his vision was ultimately limited.

She took a big gulp of wine and was about to say something when her peripheral vision caught sight of two people walking out from the alley.

A man and a woman. The man was fifteen or sixteen years old, holding a long spear in his hand, and the woman was in her early twenties, with a long saber slung across her waist.

The two walked not fast, but every step was very steady.

Seeing this scene, Pei Se almost spat out the wine in her mouth.

Fortunately, she still remembered that this wine came not easily, so she quickly swallowed it, choking and coughing twice.

Martial Artist?

There were actually martial artists in this rundown village?

She stared at this man and woman with wide eyes.

As a Third-turn Martial Artist, she naturally recognized at a glance that this man and woman were two First-Turn Late-Stage Martial Artists.

If she had seen this scene inside Guanhai County City, she wouldn't have been shocked.

But what kind of place was this?

It was merely a coastal fishing village!

How could two young First-Turn Late-Stage Martial Artists suddenly pop up here?

What on earth was going on in this Qin Family Village?